Swimmy Headed
by Dukes126plus
Summary: He’s blaming the headache. A vignette starting a relationship between Bo and Luke, from the episode Twin Trouble.


If you're familiar with the episode _Twin Trouble_, you'll recognize the dialogue that inspired this vignette as it goes by. Bo issues and invitation that Luke would be a fool not to take him up on.

* * *

He's blaming the headache. And he came by the headache quite honestly; there's no way to expect a man to get hit over the head twice in one day and not wind up with a real humdinger of a throb right between the eyes.

Bo is also blaming the headache. Problem is, he has no idea what he's blaming it for. He seems to think it has something to do with Luke being out of sorts, but he's only got two-thirds of it right. He doesn't know about that part between the headache and the surly, and Luke'll be damned if his kid cousin figures it out before he does. So he's not sharing.

Things between other things, yeah, that's the problem. Somewhere after the first head bashing and before the second one, there were a few nasty scenes with Bo. Ugly things, made Daisy lose her breath until her voice came out all squeaky and high, led to Jesse reminding him over and over that Bo could be right. (Could have been, wasn't, and the pleasure Luke ought to take in that is something that got lost _between_ things.)

"Luke." Bo's getting testy now. "I got it." By which he means the evening chores. "You just go on in now, and lay down." Where are Jesse and Daisy to witness the third, or maybe fourth or fifth, spat between the boys in one day?

"I'm fine—" he tries, but—

"Luke, you ain't fine. You look like hell, you're slow and you're in the way." Well, that's good to know. "Just go inside." _Before I make you._ And wouldn't that just cap off a rotten day, getting yelled at by Jesse for hitting Bo _after_ they've made up.

"Fine," he's surprised to hear himself mutter. He drops the feed bucket right where he stands in some attempt to teach Bo a lesson about what _in the way_ really means, and stalks off toward the house. Doesn't go inside, though. Too many questions in there and his aching head doesn't want to answer any of them, so he sits on the porch swing. Closes his eyes and lets his brain go where it wants.

Which is a really weird place, right to the middle of the nastiest part of the day.

"_Maybe you just got yourself a little swimmy-headed when you got knocked out on the side of the road," Bo sneered at him, undermining all his intentions to be logical and fair about this._

"_Maybe it don't take much to get you swimmy-headed." Nope, nothing much at all. Bo's tiny turnip of a brain went out more often than the pilot light in their old stove. A skirt, a tight sweater and a pretty smile and the bulb could be counted upon to go dark. _

_Bo was standing to Luke's sitting, towering over him like that would make him back down. But that was just foolish, because Luke was right and anyone who wasn't a_ fool in love _could see that. So if Bo thought height made for a valid point, Luke could stand, too._

_And Bo clearly didn't like Luke proving that he wasn't the smaller man. "Well maybe you ought to find out just exactly what it does take—"_

_Somewhere in there Luke might have egged him on with a "Well, come on."_

"—_Why don't you just see what you can do to make me feel that way…"_

That there is a nagging thought, what he could do to make Bo swimmy-headed. Because given half a chance, he's pretty sure he can put Bo's dim flicker of a brain out of commission for a lot longer than Cindy did. He's been ticking over that thought ever since Bo woke him up on the edge of a cliff in the pickup; he works on it some more until Bo's waking him up on the porch.

There's a quiet sucking noise, Bo's best attempt at a tsk, and then, "_Luke_." There's all kinds of worry in that voice, so Luke opens his eyes. "Why ain't you in bed?"

They're about the same words Bo used in the barn, but said all different. Unlike just about anything else Bo has come out with today, they don't make him mad.

"I was waiting for you." It's sort of true, even if Luke hasn't realized it until just this moment.

Bo shakes his head and sticks out a hand. "Come on," he grunts as he pulls Luke up.

So Luke comes, and just keeps on coming, doesn't stop until his arms are up around Bo's neck, holding on and getting hugged back. Feels good, but it's not enough.

"_You gotta trust me on this." Luke hated that this ugly little scene had moved itself right out into Hazzard Square. Nothing like an opportunity for the whole town to watch the Duke boys go at each other._

"_Why should I trust you if you don't trust me?"_

Luke runs one hand into the curls at the back of Bo's head and uses the other to find that pointy chin and guide it forward. Tilts his own aching head and finds Bo's lips, figures out how they fit together with no leftover parts, and trusts Bo to accept what he's offering. In a second he feels the quick, hot exhales against his cheek and the way that taller body sways in to fit close to his. There's the tightening in the arms around him followed by the moan that adds an extra buzzing sensation into the mix.

Yeah, he's grateful for the invitation to find out just what it takes to make Bo all swimmy-headed. Seems like he always knew.


End file.
